


hashtag pineapple juice

by saltysfeathers (saltyfeathers)



Series: hashtag relatable [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfeathers/pseuds/saltysfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one with pineapple juice</p>
<p>revenge is a dish best served sweet and in jug form</p>
            </blockquote>





	hashtag pineapple juice

**Author's Note:**

> i should probably just rename this series "sorry sam"

sam always drinks straight out of the jug??? stop it sam???

but he never does. It doesn’t matter how many rims dean dips into salt or cinnamon or even glue that one time. sam is unstoppable. he’s never going to stop drinking directly out of the jug and it drives dean bananas.  

sam, on the other hand, doesn’t even think about it. generally, the perpetrator in situations like these is completely oblivious, free to go about their lives drinking straight out of as many juice jugs as they please, without a care in the world for the chaos they leave behind. when dean yells at him about it, sam just calls it a “quirk” and reminds dean that he still chews with his mouth open sometimes so. yknow. back off dean.

sam knows for sure that something’s wrong the day dean walks into the kitchen as he’s drinking milk- yep, straight from the jug- except _dean_ is the one to freeze in place, like he’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. sam’s thought for a couple weeks now that something’s been up with dean, but this is what confirms it for him. normally, dean would be snapping a dishtowel at his ass by now, barking at him to get his tongue the fuck out of the milk jug. (sam DOESN’T actually stick his tongue in the jugs, thanks very much. he’s trying to drink it, not make out with it.) but dean just stares at him like he’s seen a ghost. very slowly, sam puts the jug down, milk dripping off his chin. he wipes his mouth the back of his hand, and dean just stares at him.

“I thought you were………………. going out,” he says, probably the worst attempt to sound casual sam’s ever heard.

“Im about to leave,” sam says suspiciously. “… why?”

“NOTHING” dean says, “NO REASON. just um. pick up some juice while you’re out.”

“k.”

“pineapple juice.”

“k.”

dean practically sprints out of the room, and sam stands there for a moment thinking everyone is very weird except him, and then shakes his head. as he’s putting the milk back in the fridge, he notices that there’s already a half full carton of pineapple juice sitting on the shelf, plain as day. he almost asks dean about it, but then decides not even to waste his breath. he’ll get dean the damn juice.

***

weird stuff continues to happen. well, _dean_ continues to happen, which is basically the same thing. he’s been acting shifty as hell for weeks, twitchy as all get out. He’s also eating a lot of fruit, which really freaks sam out. Last time he saw dean eat a grape was two years ago when he was really drunk and thought it was an oversized chocolate chip. but now dean is eating fruit like a machine with enough apples a day to run every doctor out of kansas.

sam has no idea wtf is going on, and when he asks cas, cas either has the best poker face ever, or genuinely has no idea.

“dean is a very strange man,” he says mildly after sam persists. “he is an enigma. a mystery.”

“okay, yeah, sure, except dean never eats fruit, or like, anything healthy. that’s hardly a mystery. plus he’s super twitchy. have you noticed that? especially if I run into him in the kitchen. it’s actually kinda creepy.”

cas shrugs very deliberately.

“doesn’t ring a bell,” he says casually. he hasn’t even looked up from the book he’s reading.

“ooooooooookay.” sam says. “ok. I totally believe you.”

“maybe some mysterious are best left unsolved, sam.”

sam’s eyes narrow.

“okay so you DO know something about this.”

“no of course not.”

“did dean swear you to secrecy?”

“no. though if he did he would probably also tell swear me to secrecy about swearing me to secrecy.”

It takes a second for sam to uncrinkle that crinkle, and then he relents.

“fine,” he says. he’s about to leave when something else occurs to him. “oh, hey, wait,” he says, “do you know anything about all that pineapple juice in the fridge? where is it all coming from?”

he _swears_ that the briefest of smirks rolls across cas’ face, but he schools it fast enough that sam can’t be sure enough to call him on it.

“I have no idea,” he says, completely neutral. “it is yet another mystery.”

eventually sam confronts dean about all the weirdness.

“are you a secret ax murderer?” he asks one night over dinner.

dean looks at him balefully.

“im already a murderer, sam. why would I be a secret one on the side.”

“ok, true. are you. I dunno. running cons or something?”

“nothing other than our usual shit.”

“are you?” sam leans forward and looks around furtively, while dean stares at him like he truly couldn’t give less of a shit, whispering “are you stepping out on cas?”

at that, dean raises a brow so high sam can’t believe it doesn’t scroll off his face like the opening credits of star wars.

“I am not ‘stepping out’ on cas. also, ‘stepping out’?”

“well, fuck, sorry dean! you’ve been acting like a complete weirdo lately.”

“im the complete weirdo? youre the one who just accused me of cheating on the guy we all know im gonna marry the fuck out of one day.”

“are you gonna tell me whats going on or not?”

“theres nothing going on you fucking nerd brain.” dean stands up. “everything is fine,” he says, and then that same goddam smirk that crossed cas’ face a couple days ago crosses dean’s, “everything is _sweet_.”

dean leaves the room and sam stares forlornly at the empty glass of pineapple juice he left behind.

the other shoe drops eventually with predictably bad timing.

it’s late, middle of the night late, and sam wakes up with a dry mouth from all the chinese food he ate earlier, so he pads down the hall and into the kitchen, looking for something to wet the palette. as usual, he ends up glugging pineapple juice because it’s the only goddam thing they seem to keep in their fridge these days. he’s swishing the juice around in his mouth when he hears quiet voices in the hallway, and realizes dean and cas are still up as well. he can just barely hear them through the door.

“you know I don’t mind,” cas says. “you really don’t have to keep doing this.”

“i… might actually ease back on the juice,” dean says. “I think the acid in the pineapple might have started eating a hole through the roof of my mouth.”

“there are definitely better uses for your mouth than that”

“perv.”

so this is a little awkward. Its probably too late to announce himself, so sam hangs back, hoping dean and cas will just keep walking and finish their… very personal conversation elsewhere. namely, fucking far away from him, thanks.

“but you do… think the juice helped?” dean asks after a second, suddenly sounding like he’s on a first date. “like… it was ok?”

sam takes another glug just as cas says, “I already told you, dean, it doesn’t matter to me. If it makes you more comfortable to drink pineapple juice to make your sperm taste better, then by all means.”

sam makes the noise he imagines one would make while drowning, and ends up spraying pineapple juice halfway across the kitchen, effectively blowing his cover and ruining his life in one fell swoop.

slowly, the kitchen door creaks open, dean and cas peering in as sam continues to sputter, carton still in hand. dean’s face is red with embarrassment as he realizes that sam must have heard them, but his natural instinct to be a little shit must win out, because he grins widely at the sight of his brother practically choking to death in the middle of the kitchen.

“anD THAT’S WHY YOU DON’T DRINK OUT OF THE CARTON, SAM.”

sam is literally going to die at the hands of dean’s sperm sweetening pineapple juice. he can’t believe it. he fought the devil and he’s going to get killed by his brother’s dick.

cas nudges dean forward but dean is too busy laughing at sam’s distress, so cas rolls his eyes and walks forward to pound sam on the back.

“cmon, sam,” he says, “let it out.”

and oh, sam does. he glares daggers at dean, hair hanging limply in his face. he probably looks like bigfoot with rabies.

“for weeks,” he pants, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, “ive been drinking your DICK JUICE, DEAN??!?”

“jesus, I didn’t stick my dick IN the juice, sam.”

sam covers his face with his hands.

“im going to kill you,” he says. “im literally going to kill you.”

“youre the one who’s been drinking out of the dick juice carton, man. congrats, you’ve been step- blowing your big brother for weeks.”

“dean shut the FUCK up.”

“hey im just as embarrassed as you are. at least im making the most of it.”

sam glares at cas.

“you didn’t tell me?” he hisses. “all that pineapple juice you saw me drinking for weeks and you didn’t say a single thing???”

cas shrugs. “I was sworn to secrecy.”

“oh my god,” sam says. “OH MY GOD.”

“you’re the one who couldn’t put two and two together,” dean reminds him.

“yeah?” sam asks. “well what’s my first plus YOUR FACE?”

“I suppose you’ll have to catch me to find out,” dean says, and then fucking SPRINTS out of the room. sam chucks the juice carton in cas’ general direction and gives chase because fuck what the angelic prophecies once said, today is the day he finally kills his brother.

once alone, cas pours himself a glass of pineapple juice and takes a sip.

“ah,” he comments, “sweet.”


End file.
